


You Found it Like This

by byrotic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, D/s, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byrotic/pseuds/byrotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some friends play a proximity-based, immersive mmo, and blunder through their young lives together. The author finds excuses for pointless smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Found it Like This

You're sweating when you reach the last wave of obelisk-like golems. You're on less than half health, and rather than charging in like a tool to gain some extra xp on a low-health rampage you end up turning tail. The golems blunder after you, but they're pretty slow. You can run around and stall long enough for your health gauge to replenish on its own.

There's a huge gash on your arm, running from your shoulder to your bulky forearms. Game mechanics makes it look like you filled the grove with red jell-o, you suppose to spare the more squeamish players. You've had plenty of time looking at real sword slices from strifes with your Bro. For you the difference from a real wound just straddles uncanny valley. Its not dripping gelatin blood anymore, so you're not actively loosing hp, but you hate having to look at it on your body. you wish you had stocked up on potions before you left the pagoda. normally you would be raiding with a friend, and they'd spot you.

Not to mention your class, the knight, is kind of a tank and rarely sustains wounds for long. Even now some weird zombie mending is reverse-ripping up your arm. The head-set your wearing in real life picks up your comical grimace and mirrors it on your characters jaunty face.

You're cool with never having to carry around potions, but you didn't even choose this class. You wanted to be something faster like a thief or a rouge. When you and John were creating your profiles the goober reached over your shoulder and made you a knight. In revenge you distracted him long enough to designate his weapon as hammer-kind, the most cumbersome of all the options. Douche totally turned it around on you by getting really good at hammer use though. Now every time you play together he steals so many of your kills, like it ain't no thing. It pisses you off, but he's saved your ass a bunch with it too.

Your hp is almost at maximum again, and you're pretty much ready to be done with this level. The dungeon is uncomfortably cold and you are eager to get outside into the desert beyond the dungeon doors.

You turn on the golems you've been skirting and heave up your massive phallic symbol of a longsword. You advance on the first, trying to isolate it before the others can shamble over and gang up on you. You start attacking and backing off as needed, trying not to sustain any damage.

Your visor pings with a location request. You allow it and hope its John, he could take care of these guys in an instant. You kind of doubt it though, its the middle of the night and John isn't a night person.

A glowing cyan teleportation platform etches itself on the floor about twenty feet behind you. The splashes of blue light spitting from the perimeter ushers in another knight. Fuck yes, its Karkat, this just got so much more doable.

"Karkat! you are seriously the man right now! can you get that guy on the end? thanks babycakes!" His avatar deadpans at you. "Please?" you offer. Instead he just kindof jogs over and corners you between a wall and the golem your currently working over. And the massive ball-fucker starts hacking his sickles at you!

"Yo! what the fuck! Karkat, what??" You can't really fight both them at the same time, and now some of the other golems have come over and Karkat's using his most powerful slash attack spell and fuck, you died. what the everloving fuck, Karkat.

You get ready to pm him and demand an explanation when your messenger pips. "Shower. bed restraints. be there in 15. no shades" woah, something must be up. You consider pming him back to bitch anyway, but you're starting to get hard thinking about the restraints he wants you in. Before you make up your mind he's already signed off, and you figure you're going to get more out of being obedient.

You have a hard time not touching yourself in the shower. The anticipation and your imagination have raised your flag pole full mast. You wonder what Karkat is planning? is he going to tie your knees up and fuck you open with his fingers. Maybe he'll ride your face while he lubes up your prick, using you like a toy, like an inanimate fucking object. Like your body is just a sex toy for his personal pleasure.

Okay, and now you really are touching yourself. You rinse off the soap and shut off the water before you can become too consumed in masturbating. You think about going to get something to eat before Karkat gets here. You go for the more tempting option of sliding into the restraints attached to your bed frame and waiting in agony for Karkat to come in and fuck you.

You pad to your bedroom and take off your shades, slipping further into subspace than you even were in the shower. There is a reason you don't take these off in public. You fasten the straps around your ankles and bind them close to your thighs, sliding your butt up to touch your heels. One knee rests up against the wall comfortably, the other you gather the bulk of your sheets underneath so you won't get sore stretching for too long.

Usually you might attach your ankles to the sides of the bed, but today you want your ass spread open, hopefully you can catch Karkat by surprise when he walks in to see your little pink hole just waiting to be abused. Your ass throbs just from thinking about him getting off to that.

You strap your right wrist to the headboard. You've done this enough times on your own that you can pull the strap tight the left one single handedly. Now that you're completely subdued and can't touch yourself, you're even more turned on. The foot of the bed is turned towards the door to your bedroom, and you get hot thinking about how you're completely exposed to whoever might choose to open your door.

You hear the front door open and close. you're so far in subspace that your vision is starting to haze over a bit. You cant wait for him to come in and see you all tied and trussed up for him. Your jaw works in anticipation.

You hear his bare feet on the hard wood floor, moving to your door in the very back of the apartment. The door opens slowly, Karkat's hard eyes coming into view. He looks pretty stiff, the way he gets when he's upset. You wonder whats wrong, but there's time to talk later. Right now he needs you like this, submissive and emotionally available to him.

He looks at you like a villain. He sees you spread open for him and inhales audibly, just before his clipped groan. Your ass burns knowing you're being watched. And you know he gets off on watching you. Him getting off on your exhibitionism and you getting off on his getting off to you and your fetishes, curling into a mobius double-reacharound of sexual compatibility. You were fucking made for him.

He shucks off his pants and underwear in one go, doesn't even bother with his shirt. He climbs over you, impatient and needing you. You gasp while he starts invading your mouth with his tongue and teeth, and twisting your nipples tightly. Neither of you are quiet. He growls and groans while you whine and gasp. You can tell just how far in dom space he must be by his eyes, scorching, his eyelashes fluttering. Its a testament to your chemistry how much further you fall just by holding eye contact.  
He tears off his shirt, and when you feel his skin make contact with yours your heart throbs. He scrapes his fingernails down your sides and you strain against the wrist constraints. Your cock is lined up with the flesh of his abdomen and you end up working your hips, both because you want the feel of his skin on your dick, and because you''re starting to get really desperate.

His bulge has been unraveling for the last minute. But the first you know of it is when it swipes wet against your taint. You wonder if he's thinking of fucking you with his bulge tonight. You shudder like you're cold, some body wracking bullshit. You feel like your entire being is unfolding for him to crawl inside. When did you become such a fucking weirdo?

You mewl when he reaches down to cup your dick, leaving yourself mentally. Karkat growls throatily in response. With his other hand he grips a handful of your hair and pulls your head back, to get at your throat.

He gets two fingers into your ass before it even starts to feel like anything. So you spend a lot of time with stuff in your butt, so sue you. But he actually has to scissor those two to fit the third. He knows by now that three is all you need before you can take him.

He starts to squirm into you, his bulge curling at the tip to create some semblance of the head of a normal human dick breaching you. You feel your cock twitch with the first few pulses of his bulge inside you.

Its become sort of a thing for the two of you now, ever since you confessed that you thought about being fucked by two people at once, he'll start to dictate it to you during sex. He picks a different person each time. You didn't even mention that you had thought about your friends taking a part in this, but he uses them in his dirty talk anyway.  
"Bet you could take John's cock up here too," he starts. He's used John's name before. He knows how taboo it feels for you to imagine your best bro fucking you up the ass. "That dumbass could just watch you like this for hours. I could yank his stupid khaki cargos off and he'd just stand there with a boner. I'd make him beg for it too. Beg to fuck your holes. And you would fucking moan to know he was watching you, wouldn't you? maybe Id make you gag on his cock before I let him fuck you. Aghhhn!! yeah, you're such a good boy, aren't you?"

He dirty talks you like this while he pumps his cock into you, pushing all your buttons. You're a goddamn missile silo and hes looking at that big red button, pushing all the ones around it, just waiting for the big finale. "Such a good boy, my good boy," god he knows that that's all you want to hear when you're getting close. You need that positive reaffirmation that its okay for you to let go.

he's using the curved tip of his bulge to nudge up against your hot spot, and murmuring fucking filthy things to you. Encouraging you to "shoot all over yourself, mess yourself for me." And you feel your climax coming, you try to wait for it, make it last a little longer.

You cry out, your voice higher than you associate with your normal tone. Karkat's bulge squirms inside you and every feeling is the sum total of all the feelings you've ever had. You shoot all over yourself, just like Karkat told you to, just from being fucked in the ass. You fucking love feeling messy like this.

You look up to him. His eyebrows a knit together. He looks so sexy like this, but also fragile, like he's about to cry. You arch into him knowing your contact will pull him over the edge.

It does. He screams out, a throaty guttural cry. You fucking ache for him. His bulge lets a torrent of hot cum in you. It feels weird instead of hot, since you've already cum. But you hold it inside you the best you can anyway while he slides out of you and grabs a towel by your bed to stick under you. When you relax and release some of his genetic material out of you his breath hitches like he just got decked in the stomach.

He starts undoing the restraints on your legs, then your wrists. You slowly relax into a normal position. You use the towel to wipe up some more of the mess on you, and you realize its one of your shirts. Goddamn it.

Karkat wraps his body around you, moving his skin against yours, taking up every bit of deficit space. "Stop using my shirts to clean up your jizz, man." you mumble. He kinda smiles this devious shithead smile, and doesn't say anything. When you have more energy you're gonna make a stink about it.

You stay wrapped up in each other for a while. swaddled up like a couple of ugly newborn zoo animals. Karkat disentangles first to pop his hip. You swear to god you're not gonna marry him just for that, you hate it when he does that and he knows. He turns slightly to see your reaction, like you're not gonna freaking notice.  
"Whats up?" you ask, instead. He also knows you're crap at initiating intimate conversation. He gets that you were trying to ask whats wrong. You might marry him just for that.

"Just a bad day," he answers, "remembering alot of old shit." He looks tired.

His fingers move under your shoulder blades and press at your worst stress spots. You think about fucking again. You think about him. You sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> working on making this part of a series. If anyone has suggestions for pairings they might like to see please inbox me at byrotic.tumblr! :D


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